There is something magical about an early spring morning on the Highland Lakes in the Texas Hill Country. The Colorado river is quietly running, only interrupted with the whir of the motor on a stray fisherman’s boat. As the welcoming sun rises and begins to thaw the frost that covers the river banks, tiny bluebonnets lift their purple-hooded blossoms toward the sky and spread their leaves out over the dirt. Huisache perfumes the air with small yellow blossoms that belie their thorny branches. And birds begin the long trek north, stopping to drink, to bathe and to eat anything that dares to poke out of the ground early.
A lone heron fishes by the side of the bank staring down into the clear waters for the occasional perch or bass. The white bass are running up river to spawn and begin the cycle of life over again. My husband and I have headed out for the spawn of whites. He’s intent on fishing for the sake of releasing because it’s more about the sport and the quiet and the relaxation than the dinner. I’m content to sit in the boat, watching, absorbing. The coffee in my mug steams upward in small spirals as I hear the whiz of fishing line being launched and kerplunking into the water.
Photo: Facebook/Laura Goldenschue
Concentric circles ripple out from where the bait landed and we watch for a tug on the line. Its still and quiet. A far cry from the summer sounds of jet skis, water skiers and cigarette boats that we have during the busy summer.
I love the Colorado in early spring. Its almost as if we own the river, except for a turtle that claims a fallen log in an abandoned cove, sunning itself and warming its insides after a long fight against the bitter cold. Soon the mountain laurels will be spilling grape soda into the air. There’s a vibrant fresh green on all the trees that line the bank; new green, spring green, light and bright leaves exacerbated by the rains that have cleared the air of the oak and cedar pollen.
The line tugs, fish on the hook, but not a keeper. Carefully removed, it’s cradled back until its gills refill and it breathes its river again. Another sip, another zip of line, and silence. As the sun rises, the fish start to hide beneath the limestone outcroppings and our boat heads back.
Photo: Facebook/Tammy McPeters
We stroll back to the car and head out across the countryside lined with cedar fences and fields of flowers. Nothing needs to be said. Nature has said it all. There is something almost magical on an early spring morning on the Highland Lakes. You too can experience the magic of an early spring morning on the Highland Lakes by visiting any of our central Texas lakeside communities: Llano, Kingsland, Inks Lake, Marble Falls, Lake Buchanan, Burnet, Horseshoe Bay, Lake LBJ, Spicewood, or Lake Travis. A wide variety of hotels, inns, bed and breakfasts, state parks, and treehouses can be found online at TexasHillCountry.com.